


Holy Hell

by Destiel_Fics



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Humor, Destiel - Freeform, Multi, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-12
Packaged: 2018-02-03 05:41:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1733159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destiel_Fics/pseuds/Destiel_Fics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now that Dean is a demon, Sam and Cas must deal with his new personality. They face many hardships as they try to figure out a way to get back the real Dean-- if it's not too late.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is basically everything I want to happen/scenarios I picture for season 10. This is my way of coping with the hiatus-- hope you guys enjoy!
> 
> Okay I have not updated this since the summer and it's currently December, sorry guys! Maybe I'll update it again someday...

“I just want to be an angel.” Cas felt empty as he spoke the words. Hannah was standing in front of him— praising him for imprisoning Metatron— but he couldn’t pay attention to what she was saying because he could only think of Dean. Now he was dead, too; Metatron’s voice rung in Castiel’s head. Normally, Cas would think that Metatron was lying—threatening him with the idea of Dean being gone. But Cas had seen the blade. He’d seen the blood. He’d seen the look in Metatron’s eyes and known that he was telling the truth. Metatron had raised the same weapon he’d used to kill Dean and prepared to thrust it into Castiel’s heart, and at that point, Cas hadn’t cared. _Do it_ , he thought, _I’d rather die than live without Dean. Dean is all I live for_. But the angels he’d called had come to his rescue— he wasn’t sure if he was grateful for that anymore.

Cas just wanted to be an angel again. Not the angel he’d become, but the angel he was before. Before he’d started hunting, before he’d met Dean, before the apocalypse, before Purgatory, before _everything_. Maybe then he wouldn’t feel the pain he felt right now. Maybe he’d go back to simply following orders— he didn’t care who they were from anymore. It didn’t matter. Dean was dead, and he was the only one who had ever made Cas feel the need to rebel, to fight for a cause.

 _But…wait_ , Cas thought, _if Dean is dead…he must be in heaven! He must be here_! Cas’ heart fluttered in his chest and he immediately began searching for Dean. What would Dean’s heaven be? Would it be with Sam? It wouldn’t be with… _Don’t be stupid— it’s not with you, Cas,_ he thought to himself. He remembered having seen Dean’s heaven once, when Sam and Dean had been shot and died for a short period of time. It was with Sam on a crisp July evening, and Dean had set off fireworks for his little brother. Cas wouldn’t normally tear up at that thought, but the fact that Sam wouldn’t have Dean anymore made him feel deep empathy for his friend. Sam was Castiel’s best friend (besides Dean), and he was the most trustworthy person Cas knew. He made a mental note to visit Sam as soon as he was finished looking for Dean.  

However, when Cas reached Dean’s heaven, it was empty— no, not empty; non-existent. Blank. Suddenly, Castiel filled with rage. Dean was a good man; he _deserved_ to be in heaven. Why wasn’t he here? If he had gone to Hell again, Cas would fly down there as fast as he could and pull him out. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for Dean, and besides, he’d raised him from perdition before. Looking back on it, Cas remembered how grueling the task had been. No other angel had been willing to do it; they didn’t think Dean fully deserved to be raised. Most of the angels disapproved of Dean’s murderous ways and saw him as a hostile, broken man. But Cas knew he wasn’t broken. Cas had seen Dean suffer in Hell. Every day, he’d watched him from heaven, looked on as he harmed other souls. While the other torturers’ eyes glinted with pleasure, lust, greed, and delight at the pain they inflicted, Dean’s always flickered with doubt. Cas might not have been good with words, but he could always tell what people were feeling. And Dean Winchester did not belong in that dark and lonely place, surrounded by suffering. If only Dean could remember the first time they met… Cas still remembered it vividly.

_He’d been navigating the dim hallways of Hell for what seemed like months. Cas was trying to stay alert in case any demons (or Lucifer himself) found him, but with every step he took, he felt farther from Dean and closer to Death. But Castiel did not give up. He could not go on knowing Dean was sentenced to damnation for all eternity; he had to find him. Had to save him._

_No matter how hard he tried, Castiel just couldn’t see why Dean had to remain in Hell. The other angels said that Dean deserved his punishment because he’d made a demon deal, but Cas knew he’d made the deal for Sam, not for himself. He sold his soul so his brother could live. It was a sacrifice —a concept the bible praised with honor— and yet Cas’ brethren were saying Dean deserved to rot in Hell. Well, Cas was determined to prove them wrong._

_Castiel finally spotted Dean from afar. He was half-heartedly slicing the skin off a weary soul who’d been on the rack for what seemed like fifty years. Cas knew that the time in Hell was different from that in Heaven or on Earth, and when he looked at Dean, he knew that Dean had been in Hell for far longer than Cas had been searching for him. Cas could also see the toll it had taken on his conscious. With a single deep breath, Castiel braced himself for what he was about to do._

_He strode towards the souls surrounding Dean and extended both of his arms in front of him. With one swift pushing motion, the souls were transported to a deeper section of Hell. Cas knew they didn’t have much time. He turned around and was about to grab Dean, but Dean had a horrified look on his face and backed away._

_“What kind of monster are you?” he asked suspiciously, with fear creeping into his voice._

_“I am no monster, Dean Winchester. I am an angel of the Lord, and I have come to raise you from the pits of Hell.”_

_“Are you… Are you my guardian angel?”_

_Cas smiled gently. “Something like that,” he said. “Now, we have to hurry; the souls won’t stay away for long.” A loud ringing began to echo through the dim dungeons._

_“What’s that noise?!” Dean yelled_

_“It’s my true voice— my vessel is weakening, we have to go,” Cas reached out and gently tapped Dean’s shoulder to imply that he was going to grab it. “It’s going to burn because your soul is not pure! My grace must come into contact with your skin in order for it to work— I need you to remove your shirt!”_

_“We just met, you pervy freak! Whatever…” Dean removed his shirt and Cas tried not to be too distracted by his muscular build._

_Souls began to rush towards them as black clouds of demon smoke started to manifest around their heads. Cas gripped Dean’s shoulder as tight as he could. Dean screamed in pain and Cas did his best to block it out. He knew he was helping Dean; the pain would be gone soon. Dean would be okay. Cas extended his wings and began to fly upwards, leaving a trail of blue light behind that illuminated the halls of Hell with a holy aura, making demons and souls cower. Cas pulled in his wings to shield Dean, whose voice was now hoarse from shouting._

_“Thank you… Whoever you are. I won’t forget what you did,” Dean said as his head dropped, cradled in the crook of Castiel’s wing. “You have to promise me…” Dean said, drifting into unconsciousness._

_“What? Promise you what, Dean?” Cas asked, his voice filled with urgency. In a broken voice, similar to that of an innocent child, Dean said,_

_“Don’t leave. Never leave. The light you have makes everything better, makes everything go away and what I’ve seen and done down here, I—“_

_“I will never leave you, Dean Winchester. Ever.” Cas still had his hand firmly on Dean’s shoulder. As they neared the surface, Castiel fully embraced Dean with his wings._

_“I’m coming, Sammy,” Castiel heard Dean mumble as they raced towards his grave._

_With a final flash of blue, Cas shot out of the ground, leaving Dean buried beneath it— but not for long. Cas knew that Dean wouldn’t remember anything about him— he made sure to replace Dean’s shirt and erase the memories he had of Cas. It was Heaven’s orders. Cas wasn’t allowed to interact too closely with humans and raising someone from perdition is a powerful bonding moment on a major celestial scale. But right then, Cas didn’t care if Dean would forget all about him. He had promised Dean that he would never leave, and he would keep that promise— even if Dean wouldn’t remember he’d ever requested such a thing._

_Cas couldn’t contain his joy any longer. He had lifted a righteous man from the amongst the doomed in the pits of Hell, and he wanted all of Heaven to hear it. “DEAN WINCHESTER IS SAVED!” He shouted. It was so loud that the forest rang with angelic enochian frequencies and the trees fell around him_.

Castiel had never left Dean, not really. But now, Dean had left him.

              

~~~

               “Crowley, what the Hell,” Sam muttered under his breath. He’d been trying to summon Crowley for the past ten minutes, but Crowley just wasn’t showing. “So help me, I will torture your ass into oblivion when I finally get my hands on you. You got Dean into this mess and you’re going to get him out of it.” Sam’s voice was strained from holding back tears, but he drowned out the pain with alcohol, just like Dean always used to do. He had learned from the best. Sure, both Sam and Dean had had to deal with the loss of loved ones their entire life-- their mom, their dad, Bobby, Kevin… but Dean, on top of all that, had to worry about Sammy. Most days, Sam didn’t know how Dean managed to keep going. No matter what situation they faced, Dean would always reassure his little brother with his classic, wide smile and an _“I’m fine, Sammy. Now whaddya say we go kill some evil sons-o-bitches?”_ or _“C’mon Sammy, let’s go gank some demons.”_ Killing, drinking, or eating pie was always Dean’s solution to any emotional trauma. Sam knew that it wasn’t healthy or right. Often, he tried to get Dean to talk about how he felt and acknowledge the pain, just to get it over with, but he rarely gave in. In turn, Sam always acted upset, but one thing he would never tell another soul is that he liked it that way. Sam admired Dean’s strong personality and he was thankful that he could always count on Dean to keep moving forward.

               Well, he used to be able to count on Dean when he was… _Sam, no. Stop thinking like that. Dean isn’t dead-- Crowley will fix this. It’ll be fine._ As Sam paced the halls of the bunker, he downed another shot of whiskey to suppress his swirling thoughts. After another five minutes passed with no sign of Crowley, Sam had an idea. If Crowley wouldn’t answer him, he figured he’d try getting ahold of his good friend upstairs.

               “Um… Hey, Cas. It’s Sam. Listen, I think you better come down to the bunker. I-- I know you might be busy with...like holy stuff or whatever but I really need your help right now.” When he’d concluded his prayer, Sam opened his eyes and looked around for Cas. Not to Sam’s surprise, Castiel was nowhere to be found. Sam sighed deeply, “Let’s try this again: Cas, it’s Sam. Dean is in trouble and I need--”

               “Sam, Sam I’m here. What is it?” Cas asked.

               Ignoring the fact that Cas had only answered to his prayer when it involved Dean, Sam answered, “Cas… I have some news…”

               “Dean is…” Cas trailed off; he couldn’t bring himself to say that Dean was really gone. “Metatron told me. Sam, I am so sorry. I… I don’t know what else to say...”

               Sam couldn’t hold back the tears that had been building inside him since he laid Dean’s body down on his bed. “Cas, I’ve seen Dean die hundreds of times, and it hurts more every time. Whenever I think of him dying, I say to myself ‘Maybe I’ll be able to let go’ ‘Maybe this time it won’t hurt as much’. But now, I just… I feel so _done_. Done with hunting, done with running, done with pain…”

               “Sam, don’t talk like that. You and your brother are all I have and everything I ever did was to protect you two! So _please_ , Sam… don’t give up now. Dean wouldn’t want that.”

               “‘I did everything to protect you two’, ‘Dean wouldn’t want that’-- You know what, Cas? Every time _I_ pray to you, you never show up. But if I mention Dean one time, you fly your fluffy-winged ass down here faster than I can say ‘amen’!”

               “Sam, that is not true-- I care for you and Dean equally. I pulled you both out of Hell and--”

               “Cas, enough. You and I both know that you care for Dean more than you care for me. ‘Profound bond’? I mean... everything you ever _did_ was because of Dean. You rebelled for _him_ , fell for _him_ , you even made yourself God to protect him!” Sam angrily ran his fingers through his hair and filled up his glass with more whiskey-- emptying the bottle. He was extremely tipsy and Cas could tell he’d been drinking heavily long before he’d arrived.

               “Sam, what are you trying to say?” Cas was thoroughly confused about the point of Sam’s brief argument even though he knew there was some truth to Sam’s words.

               “All I’m tryin’ to say, Cas…is that I’m scared.”

               “Scared of what?”

               “I’m scared that you’re not gonna need me anymore because Dean’s dead so you’ll just leave! Then I’ll have no one, Cas! Not a single damn person in my life worth livin’ for.”

               Although Sam’s words were slurred and influenced by copious amounts of alcohol, they tore at Cas’ heart. Cas would _never_ leave Sam. Never. Sam was Castiel’s best friend; they’d been through countless hardships together. Cas still remembered pulling Sam out of Hell-- and how he cried the entire time, unlike his brother, who had heroically cringed and gritted his teeth in pain and screamed through the agony. Sam had quietly accepted defeat. He knew he had been beaten, and he wasn’t ashamed to cry about it. Cas admired that about Sam. He knew when it was time to quit-- a quality Dean didn’t possess. Through Cas’ relationship with Sam, he learned what it meant to have a true friend who would always help you, always be there to comfort you. Cas would never leave that behind.

               “Sam, I would never, _ever_ leave you. You’re my friend-- we’ve been through so much together. I couldn’t forget all of that simply because Dean isn’t… here.”

               “What are you talking about, Cupid? I’m right here!”

               Both Cas and Sam whipped their heads around at the sound of Dean’s voice. He was standing in the doorway of the bunker. _Alive_. Sam sprung out of his chair so fast that it fell over and ran to hug Dean. It had become a routine, really-- a family reunion after one of them dying in the other’s arms. But Sam noticed that as each death got more painful, each hug felt warmer and safer than the last. Just as he was about to wrap his arms around Dean, Cas flung Sam aside.

               “Don’t touch him, Sam! It’s-- it’s not Dean!”

               “Cas, what the hell are you talking about? It’s Dean! He’s standing right there! Alive!”

               “Yep-- that’s me! How’s it goin’, halo-head? Long time, no see! You take care of Metadouche yet? Oh, wait… I was supposed to take care of that dick, wasn’t I? How’d I do? My memory’s a little fuzzy, I just woke up…”

               “You died,” Sam and Cas replied in unison.

               “Oh, did I? Huh, nothing new then. Hey, do we have any pie? Coming back to life can really work up an appetite.”

               Sam gave Cas a quizzical glance. This was Dean, but at the same time…it wasn’t. Of course Dean had always been snarky and sarcastic, but never this insensitive. Plus, Sam felt like there was something Cas wasn’t telling him.

               “Hey, Dean are you… are you feeling okay?” Sam asked, getting a slice of pie from the kitchen.

               “Like a million bucks,” Dean replied.

               Cas cleared his throat just before Dean took his first bite of pie. “Dean, could I uh… could I talk to you somewhere private?”

               “Sure Cassie, whatever you say, dear,” Dean said in a mocking tone.

               “Oh my God. I swear those two are married, for crying out loud,” Cas heard Sam mutter from the kitchen. Cas blushed but remembered why he had to talk to Dean and quickly composed himself. Dean entered his room and sat down on the bed where he had been lying lifeless only hours before. It was still splotched with dirt and blood.

               “Dean, I know what you are. I can see your true form,” Cas said, leaning against the wall across from Dean.

               Dean got up from the bed and walked towards Cas. “I can see yours, too, pretty boy. You’re awfully blue-- may I suggest a lighter color? Maybe more of a...holy-light white? Blue is so last season, Cas.”

               “Dean. This is serious. Honestly, I don’t think you know how serious. I know this is about the Mark of Cain. You realize you’re not only a demon, but an extremely _powerful_ demon? You’re a Knight of Hell, Dean! How do you plan on fixing this?!”

               Dean moved in closer to Castiel’s face, staring directly into his eyes, “Who says I want to?” Dean’s eyes flickered black and Cas flinched. He couldn’t stand it. The eyes he knew so well, the bright green eyes that still glinted with hope, despite all they’d seen-- had been replaced.

Dean walked out of the room and shouted something to Sam about his pie that Cas couldn’t make out. Cas couldn’t move. He was completely consumed with despair. His heart felt like it was about to tear. In all of Cas’ long life, he had never felt this hopeless. He would only say it to himself, but he loved Dean. And yes, in a different way than he loved Sam. Sam was like a brother to Cas but Dean… Dean was something more. But Cas knew demons couldn’t have strong emotional attachments-- only instinctive behaviors. Everything their relationship had meant was now lost. All those years they’d been friends, they’d confided in each other, they’d loved each other it was all...forgotten. Cas couldn’t bear it anymore. He sat down on Dean’s bed and cried. Never in his entire celestial lifespan had Castiel shed a tear. He had gotten teary-eyed when he thought Dean was dead, but this was worse. This was much worse. Now, Dean was a big-wig downstairs and Cas was the head honcho upstairs. An angel and a demon. Cas knew they wouldn’t be able to work together anymore, even if Dean still wanted to work with him and Sam. _Sam. What will Sam do when he finds out?_ Cas thought. _Sam has been hunting demons all his life and now Dean…_

“Hello, Darling.” Castiel’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Crowley’s voice. “Oh, there’s no use in shedding tears over your boyfriend-- he’ll be fine.”

Castiel was furious. He knew Crowley had placed the blade back in Dean’s hands and made him become a demon. It was Crowley who had persuaded Dean to get the Mark in the first place. All of this was his fault. Cas lunged at Crowley and started beating on him.

“You--” _thwack_ “Did this--” _thump_ “To him!” Cas threw Crowley on the ground and kicked his nose. Crowley shouted out in pain and Cas heard footsteps approaching.

Sam stood panting in the doorway with Dean behind him. “Cas, what’s going on?” Sam’s gaze fell to Crowley lying bloody on the floor. “I could’ve used you about two hours ago, you useless jerk.”

“Good to see you too, Moose,” Crowley replied in a nasally voice, due to his broken nose.

“So, Cas. Why the sudden smackdown?” Dean asked walking towards Crowley.

“You _know_ why, Dean. I think Sam deserves to know, too.”

“Know what, Dean? Dean, what is it? Does this have to do with how you aren’t… y’know, _dead_ anymore?” Sam asked, panic creeping into his voice.

“I don’t know what you guys are talking about. You sure you two are feeling okay? You’ve been on my case ever since I awoke from the dead. Like, jeez gimme a break-- a guy needs his space after something like that, y’know?” Dean began to walk towards the door, but halted abruptly. “What the-- oh, this is freaking _wonderful!_ ” He looked down at his feet and saw that he was surrounded by a demon trap.

“Dean, are you okay? What’s wrong?” Sam asked, puzzled.

“Uh...yeah, Sammy I’m fine just um-- I’m just gonna do some stretches. Yeah. I just… I’m feelin’ a little sore after being… dead and all so I’m just gonna--” Dean stopped mid-sentence as he extended his arms upwards, mocking the motions of stretching. He proceeded to reach down to touch his toes and Sam’s gaze followed him, landing on Dean’s feet. He saw the demon trap and suddenly felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Slowly, Sam reached behind him and gripped a flask that Dean kept on his shelf by the door. It was filled with holy water and Sam subtly unscrewed the cap while Dean tried to make small-talk with Cas.

Suddenly, Sam splashed the water onto Dean, who cried out when it burned his skin. “I DON’T BELIEVE THIS,” Sam shouted and angrily threw the flask on the floor. “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas…” Sam began to chant the exorcism but it wasn't working. Crowley squirmed uncomfortably on the floor, clearly affected, but Dean wasn't fazed. Sam turned to face Cas, his face full of fear. “Cas, what the hell is going on?”

 


	2. Chapter 2

“Sam, the exorcism won’t work because…” Cas tied to find a way to gently break it to Sam that his brother was now an all-powerful demon, but Cas had never been good with words.

               “Because _why_ , Cas?! Just spit it out, goddammit! Who-- or what-- is possessing my brother, why is he alive, and how do we fix it?” Sam was shouting, clearly disliking the fact that Cas knew more than he did.

               “Boys, boys, _boys,_ ” Crowley said, getting up from the ground. “If you’d all stop bickering for a moment, I’d be able to explain this sticky situation to you. It’s a tad…complicated.”

               “Then you’d better get talking, Crowley,” Sam said, walking over to the Devil’s Trap. He scraped away a sliver of the paint with his shoe so that Crowley and Dean could escape.

               “Fair enough. I’ll talk. But it’s hard to carry on a conversation for very long when my face has been pummeled into oblivion by a fuzzy-feathered freak!” Crowley spit these last words at Cas, who rolled his eyes in return. Cas made his way over to Crowley and placed a palm on his forehead to heal him. Normally, Cas was able to heal people effortlessly. But this time, he felt a piercing pain in his head as Crowley’s wounds vanished, and when he removed his hand he collapsed on the ground.

               “Cas!” Dean ran over to him and lifted him off of the ground.

               Sam walked over to them and pushed Dean away, supporting Cas himself. “Don’t you touch him until I figure out what’s wrong with you. Right now, I see you as another one of _them_ ,” Sam pointed at Crowley as he said the last word. Dean glared at Sam and then flashed his eyes black. Sam shot his brother a dirty look before turning his attention to Cas.

               “Cas? Cas, you okay?” Sam asked, shaking Cas’ shoulders.

               Cas didn’t respond. He was limp in Sam’s arms and Sam laid him down on the bed.

               “Crowley, what did you do to him?”

               “Why must I be blamed for everything, Moose? I didn’t do a thing to your little angel. Remember how he stole grace that wasn’t his? Well, it looks like he’s running out of juice…”

               Dean strolled over to the bedside. “Well how do we fix it? There’s gotta be more angels around here somewhere! Can’t we just take some grace from them or something?” Dean’s voice filled with concern, which took both Sam and Crowley by surprise-- since demons don’t usually show consideration for others.

               Cas coughed and slowly opened his eyes. “Dean, it doesn’t work like that,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “Since my original grace was stolen from me, I can only steal grace if I wish to stay an angel. If I were to obtain more grace from multiple angels, it would be ineffective. I will only get weaker with every bit of grace I steal. Eventually, it will stop working.”

               “Well what the hell do we _do_ , Cas? We can’t let you just… rot away like this,” Dean replied. “There’s gotta be some way to fix this. C’mon, man.”

               “I’m afraid there is no way, Dean. Not unless I get my original grace back-- but it’s long gone. Metatron used it for the spell. I still have some time, but I’m afraid I’m not at full power anymore.”

               “Cas, don’t worry-- we’ll figure out how to help you. How ‘bout you just rest here… I think Crowley has some explaining to do,” Sam said. He motioned for Crowley to follow him out of the bedroom and they walked down the hallway.

               “Dean,” Cas said quietly.

               “What’s up?” Dean asked nonchalantly, sitting on the edge of the bed.

               “I need you to know how serious this is. You’re different, Dean. You’re not just possessed by a demon-- you _are_ a demon,” Cas said, sitting upright.

               “Yeah, thanks, Captain Obvious-- I get that. I get that I’m a powerful demon. I get that I’m different. I get that you and Sam are worried about me. But, honestly? I feel great! I feel powerful, Cas! I feel like, for once in my life, I’m not threatened by anything. I don’t have to worry about evil sons-of-bitches because I _am_ an evil son of a bitch!”

               “You don’t actually mean that, do you?” Cas was horrified. How was this Dean talking? The Dean he used to know and love… The Dean that would have punched someone if they ever told him he’d become a demon someday.

“Yeah, Cas. I do mean it. I know you and Sammy are concerned, but there’s nothing I can do about it. This is what I am now, so I might as well enjoy it, right?”

 

~~~

“So, you’re telling me that you put the First Blade in my dead brother’s hands and he woke up as a demon? And you expect me to believe that you didn’t _want_ this to happen?” Sam was sitting across from Crowley, who was wearing an expression of concern-- whether it was fake or genuine, Sam couldn’t tell.

“Sam, I promise. I never lied to you or to Dean about the Mark. I just didn’t tell you two the whole story… When Cain committed suicide with the Blade, it didn’t work-- the Mark wouldn’t let him die. So, he was resurrected with a new kind of life. He became a demon. That’s exactly what Dean is now. However, Dean is a different kind of demon… A more powerful one, just like Cain was. Cain, as you may know, was a Knight of Hell-- the very first, actually. Appointed by Lucifer himself and--”

“This is friggin’ fantastic. Now, not only is Dean a demon but he’s a _Knight of Hell_! Goddammit Crowley, how are we supposed to get out of this mess?!”

“Well, I was getting to that before you so rudely interrupted me, Samantha. You have two options. Since Lucifer cursed Cain with the Mark and appointed him as the first Knight of Hell, you could give little Luci a call and see if he’d be willing to negotiate with you to change your brother back.” Sam shuddered at the thought of seeing Lucifer again. “But you don’t seem too fond of seeing your old pal again. That’s why _I_ am your second option,” Crowley said slyly, straightening his tie.

“What do you mean? Why would we wanna work with you again? We get screwed over every time!” Sam was reluctant to hear what Crowley would offer, but he was even more reluctant to have to deal with Lucifer again. He wanted to avoid that at all costs.

“Well, Dean is now a Knight of Hell. I am the King of Hell. It’s a perfect match, really. You see, I need someone to help me kill Lucifer.” Crowley smiled and raised his eyebrows at Sam.

“ _You_ want to kill Lucifer?” Sam asked in disbelief.

“No, Moose-- weren’t you listening? I need someone to kill him _for_ me. Someone powerful. Someone like… Dean.”

“I don’t understand-- Lucifer is in the cage with Michael, right? Why would you want to kill him?”

“Someone didn’t put on his thinking cap this morning, I see. With Lucifer dead, I will be the true ruler of Hell and, as a bonus, I won’t have to listen to those two idiots battling it out every time I pass that godforsaken hallway. It’s getting really annoying, you know. I’d like to have some peace, be able to listen to the sweet sound of torture, not bickering angels.”

“Well why are you asking for my permission? Can’t you just command Dean wherever you want?”

“I… I can’t. Dean is… stronger than I am. He’s a different breed of demon. Almost like pure power in demonic form. But this is where you come in, Sam. I need you to make this our little secret. Don’t let Dean know how much power he has-- I need him to believe that he’s under my command.”

“I’m done keeping secrets, Crowley. It’s always the same-- one of us keeps a secret, one of us finds out, and one of us always ends up dying. How is this time any different?” Sam rubbed his temples in distress.

“This isn’t all about you, Sam. If Dean finds out how much power he has, he could become incredibly destructive. Remember how reckless he was with the Blade? Imagine that kind of bloodlust in special Demon Edition. If we let him think I control him, I’ll keep him in check and teach him how to deal with his powers. Then, I’ll tell him to kill Lucifer and Michael and everyone will live happily ever after! What do you say, Cinderella?” Crowley extended his hand.

Sam sighed and shook it. “You’re a crappy Fairy Godmother.”

Just then, Dean walked in, carrying Cas in his arms. “Guys, he’s in bad shape...”

 

~~~

“What happened?” Sam asked as Dean placed Cas’ feet on the floor.

“We were talking and then all of a sudden he started gasping for air.”

“Well, why didn’t you give him CPR, Dean?” Crowley asked suggestively. Dean glared at him in reply.

               “I have an idea of how to get his grace back,” Dean said. He sat Castiel down in one of the chairs at the table. “Metatron stole his grace for the spell, right? So, Cas can only steal grace from other angels if he wants to keep his powers. Well, what if he stole the grace from the angel who stole his grace? Shouldn’t that work?”

               “So… You’re suggesting that Cas steal Metatron’s grace?” Sam asked.

               “Exactly.”

               “Dean, I can’t. I don’t know if I even have enough grace to get into heaven,” Cas chimed in, sounding weak and beaten.

               “You-- you have to try, Cas. C’mon… you’ve never given up on anything before. Don’t give up now.”

               Sam recalled earlier that day when Cas had given him similar advice. _Maybe I shouldn’t have given Cas such a hard time,_ he thought.

               “Fine,” Cas said and he stood up, steadying himself by placing a hand on the table.

               “I’m coming,” Dean said, placing a hand on Cas’ shoulder.

               “Dean, you know that’s absolute suicide. You’re a demon-- you can’t walk into a heaven full of angels. You’ll be smited immediately.”

               “Oh… right,” Dean sounded slightly disappointed, as if he’d just remembered his demonic state. He cleared his throat to fill the uncomfortable silence. “Uh, good luck then. Be careful, Cas.”

               With a silent gust of wind, Cas disappeared.

 

~~~

When Cas entered heaven, he immediately made his way to Metatron’s cell. He angrily swung the door open and pulled an angel blade out of the pocket of his trenchcoat.

               “Well, it’s good to see you again, Castiel,” Metatron said. He was sitting on the bench in the cell, with his signature smug smile spread across his face.

               Without saying anything, Cas moved towards Metatron, raising the angel blade so that it rested just under Metatron’s chin.

               “Oh, go ahead. Take my grace. Payback, right? I take your grace, you take mine… Predictable. But, did you ever stop to think about how my grace could be different from a normal angel? After all, I _was_ the scribe of God-- and God myself, before you took it all away from me. Are you really sure you want to risk the effects my grace could have on you? All for what? Just so you can rule Heaven? You’ve got some big shoes to fill, Cas,” Metatron’s voice was thick with arrogance, making Castiel hate him even more.

               “I’m not doing this to rule heaven,” Cas said, pressing the angel blade harder to Metatron’s neck.

               “Oh, really? Then why do it, Cas? Dean is gone, so what else is there to live for? What other reason could you possibly have to--”

               “Dean isn’t gone. He’s alive. But I’m not doing this for him. I’m doing this for myself. I’m doing this for Gadreel. I’m doing this for Samandriel. I’m doing this for Balthazar. I'm doing this for Gabriel. I’m doing this for every brother and sister I have lost because of you and Raphael and Naomi and every other corrupt ruler of Heaven who tried to play God-- including myself. We’ve all made mistakes, but at least I’m sorry for mine. At least I try to do something to right them. I’m taking your grace because you don’t deserve to be called an angel. I am taking your grace because I want to be able to watch over my brothers and sisters-- not _control_ them.” With that, Castiel slashed Metatron’s neck and opened his mouth, allowing Metatron’s grace to enter his vessel.

               Metatron fell to the ground with a loud _thud_. Cas stood over him, angel blade still in hand.

               “You’re weak, Cas. You won’t be able to handle that grace. It has a few attachments,” Metatron croaked out as he lay bloody on the floor.

               Cas narrowed his eyes. “I don’t need your advice. I took it once, and _that_ didn’t turn out well.”  
               “Just remember, Cas... with that new grace, you’re going to need... power.” Cas had no idea what Metatron was talking about. He’d been locked up in this cell for a while now and had probably become delusional. Still, Cas felt slightly uneasy with this new grace inside of him.

               Castiel heard footsteps approaching and when he looked up, Hannah was standing in the doorway of the cell.

               “Castiel, what’s going on? What happened?”

               “Hannah, I had to steal Metatron’s grace. Mine was draining and I had no choice.”

               Hannah gave him a skeptical look. “So… are you still our leader?”

               “I’m not a leader, Hannah. I am simply another angel. I only wish to keep the peace amongst our brothers and sisters. I-- I have to go. I don’t know when I’ll return but until then, keep everything under control.”

               “Of course,” Hannah said. Castiel vanished and Hannah listened as Metatron laughed before exhaling his final breath.

 


	3. Chapter 3

“So how’d it go? Did you get your mojo back?” Dean asked as Cas entered the bunker.

               “Yes, Dean. And Metatron is dead now, so… We won’t have to worry about him anymore.”

               “Nice work, Cas. So now that you've got some angel juice... what's left to do? Try to find a case to work?"

“Oh, I have a case for you,” Crowley said, smiling. “You remember Lucifer, don't you, Dean?”

“Yeah, obviously,” Dean replied, clearly uninterested in what Crowley had to say.

“Well... I've got a little favor to ask…”

“I'm not working for you, Crowley. No way. In case you haven't forgotten, I'm a Knight of Hell, so your demonic powers don't intimidate me anymore-- not that they ever did in the first place,” Dean said, grabbing a beer out of the fridge.

“Ah, but you see... I'm the _King_ of Hell. Which means that you're under my command.” When Dean wasn't looking, Crowley winked at Sam who rolled his eyes in response.

“So, what? I'm your little 'demon pet' now or something?” Dean asked, opening the beer and throwing the cap in Crowley's direction.

“I prefer the term--” Crowley snatched the cap out of the air “--partner.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Dean pulled out a chair at the table and sat down. “So what is this ‘favor’, anyways? What does it have to do with Lucifer?”

“I’m glad you asked… See, I need someone to kill Lucifer for me so that I can become the true ruler of Hell and--”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa-- hold up. What do _I_ get out of this deal, huh? What’s in it for me?”

“I was getting to that! If you kill Lucifer, then I will be the true ruler of Hell and you will no longer be a demon. Since Lucifer placed the Mark on Cain in the first place, once he’s dead, the Mark will die with him. Win-win situation for everybody. Not to mention, none of us will have to worry about Lucifer escaping from that cage of his. You might as well kill Michael while you’re at it-- I’ll give you bonus points.”

“Who says I want to be cured of the Mark? Everyone’s just assuming that I hate this new form, that I want to be cured, that this is some horrible burden. Well news flash, I can think for myself and I _like_ who I am now! I have power! I don’t have to worry about being on the bottom of the ‘food-chain’ of supernatural beings anymore!” Dean became frustrated and the lights all over the bunker began to flicker.

“Dean, calm down!” Sam shouted.

“ _You_ can’t tell me what to do!” Dean pointed his finger at Sam, causing him to fly back and hit the wall behind him. Dean immediately regretted what he had done. “Sam, I-- I didn’t mean to…”

               “See, Dean? This is exactly why you need me! I could teach you how to control your powers-- you could harness all of that energy to defeat Lucifer!” Crowley’s attempts to get Dean to listen to him failed. Without saying anything, Dean had stormed out of the bunker.

               “Crowley, just leave,” Sam said from the ground where he lay clutching his shoulder, which was now injured.

               “I thought you _wanted_ me to visit? Asking a guest to leave so soon? Awfully rude, isn’t it?” Crowley replied, pretending to be offended.

               “ _Leave!”_ Sam yelled and Crowley disappeared.“Sam, are you okay?” Cas asked, walking over to him and helping him up.

               “Yeah, I’ll be fine, Cas. I’ll get patched up-- you go find Dean.”

               “Do you want me to heal--”

               “No. My shoulder will be fine. You need to conserve any grace you have for when we really need it.” Sam walked off to go bandage his injury and Cas set off to find Dean.

               _He couldn’t have gone too far…_ Cas thought, just when he heard Dean shouting from outside. Cas ran up the stairs that led to the main entrance and opened the large door of the bunker, allowing sunlight to stream in.

               “I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS,” Dean shouted.

               Cas walked over to where Dean was standing, angrily kicking one of the tires on the Impala.

               “Dean? What’s… what’s wrong?” Cas asked tentatively.

               “All I wanted was to go for a relaxing joy-ride but I can’t because _the car is warded against demons._ I can’t enter my own goddamned car! SON OF A BITCH!” Dean pounded on the driver’s side door and let out a frustrated grunt.

               “We could… go for a ride in my car…” Cas suggested.

               “I don’t know, Cas. I-- no offense-- but I kind of just wanted to be alone so I could clear my head. What I did to Sammy back there…”

               “Dean, that wasn’t your fault. You just need some practice controlling your powers. You’re still getting used to being a… demon.”

               “Yeah… I guess. Y’know what? I’ll take you up on your previous offer-- but only if you let me drive.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to let me know if you have any questions/concerns/comments!


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